


Family Reunion

by PuppetMaster55



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppetMaster55/pseuds/PuppetMaster55
Summary: You set out with pokemon your family gathered, and now you've beaten the Elite Four.The time has come to fight the Champion





	Family Reunion

You did it, you beat the Elite Four.

You let out a shriek, run out to hug your ~~cousins’~~ Lotad, because you did it. You’ve won. You are the best, the grandmaster of the region.

It wasn’t that long ago, almost a year, since you set out from home – was shoved out onto the road with a backpack full of clothes, and several pokeballs holding pokemon from your aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings. Your mom loves you, she really does, but it was past time that you went out and maybe took some of your siblings’ pokemon with you please do it for her?

…she was very stressed out at the time. But she meant well, she really did.

So here you are, after one year on the road, standing proud against the last of the Elite Four. You took your family’s pokemon, the same ones you grew up with, and trained them into an elite force that. Just. Beat. The Elite Four.

The Lotad that your twin cousins raised from an egg.

The Golbat that your aunt loves to death, went into the cursed cave when she was ten and walked out with.

Your sibling’s Sylveon (and didn’t they love that their Sylveon evolved out of their love for them so, so much?).

The Tauros that your uncle traded his beans for, two years back. The family still didn’t believe that he actually convinced a kid that the beans were magic.

But here you are, with a group of pokemon that love you as much as you love them. That represent the love of your family.

You can’t wait to go back home. You miss your family so much (video calls aren’t the same, could never be the same).

You turn around, preparing the speech you’ll give when you return home, but the defeated trainer is talking about another grandmaster. Someone from years back. Someone who walked in a little kid with a master ball holding God and walked out the greatest trainer in the entire region.

You stop as doors open on the opposite end of the stadium. Stare at the attached stadium.

Someone stands there, on the far end, and you’re crossing the stadium you just had a battle in, sidestep the pools of water and rivers of fire. They’re hunched over, and you realize they’re old and weary.

The new stadium is reached, and you feel a twinge of guilt. This is an old person, really old, probably as old as your grandma. You feel guilty at having to defeat this person, who has waited decades for someone to make it past the Four.

The old person looks up, gives you a smile, mentions how it’s been far too long since you last called. They missed you, missed telling you stories at the dinner table of their youth, of the people they met on the road.

Because this person, this grandmaster?

This is your Grandma May.

She pulls out a master ball.


End file.
